C.E.O Bond

Looking down at the book she had come to think of as an extension of the teen in front of her, M blinked, unsure of what she was to do. She had assumed that Carmon was like her father, keeping the journal between the two of them. Turning her attention to the girl who now stood in front of the stove, M watched her as she checked on the vegetables. Glancing back down, she opened the cover. She had to force herself not gasp. Written in the centre of the page was; Happy Birthday Olivia.

Glancing at the brunette, M shook her head, a fond smile turning the corners of her lips up. Flipping the page, she eyed the sketch. Unsurprisingly, it was of her. And judging from what she was wearing, it was from when they first met.

"First of all, building security sucks." She said, holding the widened blue eyed gaze of the white haired woman, "Secondly," She turns to blonde man she now stood beside, "How dare you leave without telling me." She snapped, half stomping her heeled foot.

The only change in Bond's blank look was the raised eyebrow, "What are you, six?"

Copying the move, Carmon dropped her arm and looked him over critically, "And what are you, eighty?" She bit out sarcastically.

"Excuse me!" M called shrilly, "Who are you?"

Looking at the short woman calmly, she tilted her head, "Carmon ma'am."

"And how did you get in here?"

Raising her eyebrows slightly at the angry woman, she focused on her, "I walked in ma'am."

"How did you get past security?" She asked with a narrowed gaze.

Glancing at the man standing beside her, still not showing any emotion, she smirked. Looking back at the woman glaring at her, she stepped forward and placed the ID clip on the desk, "I walked past them ma'am."

Smiling at the now amusing memory, she continued to look through the journal, occasionally pausing to look closely at the picture in front of her. She recognised a lot of them from being when it was just the two of them. Mostly they were of her working, whether it was at home or in the office. As more pages turned, the times she got up Carmon for constantly staring at her made sense. Shaking her head, she looked at the new picture in front of her.

"You drew me while I was sleeping!" She gasped, looking up at the girl.

Even though Carmon didn't turn around or respond in anyway, M knew she was smiling, no smirking.

Huffing, she went back to flipping through the book. The next two drawings pulled her up.

One was the drawing of her in the bathrobe, with her tattoo clearly visible on her ankle, while the other was of her, standing at the stove with a tea towel thrown over her shoulder. She needn't look to see what date that one was drawn on; she knew without a doubt that it was after being told about James' past.

Blinking back the tears, she quickly turned the page, only to freeze at the portrait on the last page. It was one of all of three of them. She was holding Carmon against her side while James stood behind them, holding them both. Looking down, she read the small message with a bark of laughter.

Love you Bitch.

Scribbled under that was a quick, C.E.O Bond.

"C E O Bond, huh." M chuckled, gently closing the journal.

"Mmm." Carmon hummed, turning the plates down, "Dad suggested I drop the E when I changed my last name, but I decided against it."

"What does it stand for?"

Wiping her hands on the towel she had slung over her shoulder, Carmon replied, "Evelyn, after my Grandmother."

"Oh?" M was surprised, rarely did Carmon speak about her mothers family, "What she like?"

"Dead."

"I'm sorry?"

"She died just before I was born. But I have no doubt that she was either just like my mother or a strict traditionalist."

"Oh."

Relaxing back against the bench, Carmon gave the shorter woman a small smile.

"What's the O stand for?"

Arching her brow, the brunette drawled, "Should I utter one syllable, you will have me shot."

"Are you serious?"

Carmon nodded, "I asked Dad what he would have named had he known about me, and he said Olivia, so when I changed my name, I added it in."

"So you're Carmon Evelyn Olivia Bond." M said, raising her brow in return.

"Yeah," the teen smirked, "But should you ask dad, I'm just Carmon-Olivia." She wrinkled her nose, "He never liked my Grandmother."

At the bench, M nodded her head, unsure how to respond to the new information.